A man walked by out in the hall, chuckling to himself, his steps heavy enough to make the floor shake.
Wisp pushed off the door and speed-creeped across the room, cringing at the pungent stink of days-old bad water sitting in the buckets. Marauders who slept in here must be too lazy to go to an outhouse. Fearing someone would walk in and catch her at any second, she jogged past the crude beds to an interior door on the left that led to a room about half the size with stacks of boxes and random junk. A thick layer of dust on the floor reassured her that the marauders probably never came in here, so it felt like a good hiding place. She shut the door behind her and tried to calm down enough to think.
Her gaze roamed the assorted junk, mostly broken lamps, small tables, and cardboard boxes, until the woman’s scream happened again, quite loud. Drawn by the cry, Wisp crept around a wall of stacked cartons, and discovered the room to be much bigger than she’d thought. In the far corner, a six-foot hole in the floor gave off flickering firelight, as well as an awful smell. Her eyes watered at the mixture of bad water, ngh, rotting meat, and sweat. She shifted her rifle to the side and buried her mouth and nose against the inside of her left elbow.
Eww.
“Don’t do this!” yelled a woman, so loud she had to be down in that hole.
A man laughed. Footsteps scuffed over stone, and a door slammed.
Metal rattled along with feminine grunting.
Wisp’s eyebrows knit together. The sound reminded her of when she shook the door of her Haven, trying to get Dad’s attention. She squatted low and crept to the edge, peering down at a tall shelf cabinet and dark cinder block walls flickering in the light of numerous small fires. She scooted around the hole closer to the shelf, which appeared tall enough to serve as a ladder. Flat on her stomach, she scooted forward and stuck her head into the opening, careful to keep her butt-length hair from draping and giving her away.
Multiple havens occupied the chamber below. Some, tall and narrow, hung from chains on the ceiling. Others on the floor had a rectangular boxy shape like hers. Men and women, mostly wearing tattered rags or mismatched clothing, occupied a few of them. The biggest havens she’d ever seen, four of them, lined the wall on the right, each a little bigger than the Mother Shrine room. They all had cinder block walls on three sides and barred doors facing the chamber that looked like the same type of bars Dad had made her Haven out of, stuck together in a poor attempt to be straight lines.
A word from one of her books leapt out at her: jail.
Best of all, no marauders were down there. Only a single door led out of the chamber, and it didn’t have any windows. No monster would ambush her while she climbed and couldn’t protect herself. She pushed herself up, sat on the edge, and stretched her legs out to get her feet on the nearby shelf. The sturdy wooden cabinet let her climb down to a cold, concrete floor.
Rifle held sideways, she strolled with confidence out of the shadowy corner into the light of several coffee-can lamps hung on the walls. Fat wicks burned like giant candles, lending an odd chemical smell to the stink of everything else in here.
The people gasped and stared at her.
Rattling came from a hanging haven where the dark-haired woman the men carried in only minutes ago shook and fought the door, trying to batter it open. The swinging enclosure had so little room inside, the woman had no choice but to hang her legs through the bars and sit on the bottom.
A child smaller than Wisp with wild black hair perched cross-legged inside another hanging haven on the left wall, peering at her with huge blue eyes. A belt around the child’s waist held up a somewhat-skirt of tattered rags, but didn’t cover much skin. Pale and covered with grimy smears, the younger child shivered and tried reaching toward her past the bars.
A second woman in a hanging haven, one empty between her and the child, gazed down at Wisp with a pleading, desperate look. She had a similar pale complexion, with light brown hair and piercing hazel eyes.
Wisp couldn’t look away from her. “Are you afraid of the Tree Walkers, too? Do they come here even though it’s all dead outside?”
“What?” asked a man in a floor haven. “Tree Walkers?”
“Please,” said the hazel-eyed woman. “Help my son escape.”
“No, Mama.” The black-haired child tried―quite futilely―to reach her. “I don’t wanna leave without you.”
“What are Tree Walkers?” asked another man in a ground haven, also with a fair complexion. He almost looked as old as Dad.
Wisp shivered. “Monsters who take children away into the forest. That’s why we have havens. You must be afraid of them because you’re inside havens.”
“Havens?” asked the boy’s mother.
She walked closer, her head about even with the bottom of the swaying metal enclosure. “This.” She patted the bars. “It’s a haven so the Tree Walkers don’t steal you.”
“Nah, kid,” said the dark-haired woman. “These are cages, not havens. We’ve been abducted. The marauders took us as slaves.”
Wisp looked around at perhaps a dozen adults and the boy. “Slaves?”
“Stupid tribal,” muttered a distant man.
The mother hissed at him before giving Wisp an imploring smile. “The men outside are marauders.”
“I know that.” Wisp glanced over at the huge room-sized havens. Two had figures under blankets, likely asleep.
“A slave is when marauders grab people who don’t want to go with them and keep them locked in cages. They make us work on their farm, or when they get tired of us, fight each other to the death. Please! You must take Kit and get out of here.”
“No, Mama!” yelled the boy.
About half the adults shushed him.
“Quiet, boy,” snapped a blond-haired man much younger looking than Dad. “You’ll make them come in here and they’ll grab this girl before she can find the key.”
“Please let us out,” whispered Kit, rattling the door of his haven. “I want to go home.”
His mother burst into tears.
“Be quiet, Noma,” moaned a man in a floor haven on the right. “They will hear you. This girl is simple.”
“I’m not simple.” Wisp marched across the room to glare at a man with dark brown hair and brown eyes. “I’m Wisp.”
He chuckled. “And I am Daz, but we are still locked in cages.”
“Havens,” said Wisp.
“Whatever you want to call them, please let us out.” Noma tried again to reach for her son, but couldn’t even touch her fingers to the empty haven between them.
She scratched her head. “Why are you sad to be safe in your havens? The Tree Walkers can’t get you?”
“I don’t have a clue what the heck a Tree Walker is, kid, but this ain’t no haven. It’s a cage.” Daz reached out between the bars and grabbed a fistful of Wisp’s pink shirt. He tugged her closer, nose to nose between the bars. The man smelled like he hadn’t had a bath since he’d been her age. “You can call it anything you like, but please get us out of here.”
Wisp frowned at his hand, but tolerated his grip for the moment since he seemed more pleading than threatening. “I’ve come to find my Dad.”
“Unbelievable,” said a man sitting a floor haven closer to the big cells. His dark brown hair hung all the way to the floor. “Come here, kid.”
Daz let go of her shirt and whispered, “If this kid is sneaky enough to get in here, she can get the key. Some of those tribals are scary good at hunting, even this young. Big guy right outside has it. All ya gotta do is sneak in there like ya snuck in here, and grab the keys.”
“Kid, get outta here before you get caught,” said a younger man with blond hair.
“Stuff it, Olim,” rasped Daz, spittle flying from his lip. “She’s our only chance!”
She padded over to the man beckoning her, but stayed far enough away to avoid another grab. “What?”
“I’m Tavin.” The longhaired man pointed a thumb to his right. “Poor guy in that cell ke
pt talking about having a daughter. It’s why he put up such a fight. Damn marauders beat him something fierce. Doesn’t seem possible that some little kid could find this place all the way from the Rockies. That guy said the marauders had gone way up into the hills.”
“He killed a couple of them with his bare hands,” said Noma. “Almost escaped.”
“Rockies?” asked Wisp.
“Endless forest or something?” Tavin scratched his head. “People up there are pretty isolated.”
A shudder ran down her body at the words ‘Endless Forest.’ Dad? She ignored Tavin and darted over to the big cell. A man lay on the floor, half propped against the wall, partially covered with a blanket. Bruises, stab wounds, and welts covered his bare chest. Puffy dark spots distorted his face; cracked lips exposed a mouth missing a few teeth. Blood had seeped over his chin, dripping onto blotchy green pants with all-too-familiar metal plates protecting the shins.
“D-Dad,” whimpered Wisp.
She rammed herself into a gap between the bars, reaching, but her backpack got caught, trapping her. Snarling, she wriggled out of the straps, dropped it, and shimmied into the cell, sliding to a stop on her knees beside him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking.
His skin held no warmth.
“Dad!” yelled Wisp, gathering his left hand in both of hers, but his arm wouldn’t bend, stiff as a tree branch. All four knuckles had thick scabs, and a snipped-off arrow shaft protruded from his bicep.
She grabbed his shoulders again and shook him harder, then pawed at his frizzy black-and-grey beard. When he showed no sign of moving, she collapsed over his chest. No heartbeat sound came from within. Wisp stared at the wall, unable to breathe or even blink. Her cheek peeled away from his chest, tacky with semidry blood. She turned her head to stare into his eyes, but they gazed off, unfocused. The once rich brown of his face had taken on a slight pallor.
“D-Dad?” she blubbed, tears streaming down her face. “No, Dad. Don’t go to the Other Place. I need you here. Dad! You can’t go to the Other Place. You just can’t!”
She hovered the back of her hand by his nose and mouth, feeling for breath, but no air moved.
“I brought your rifle. See? It’s right outside. I’ve got your stuff with me too. Want me to get it?”
Your Dad’s already gone, said Zen’s voice in the back of her mind.
Wisp pictured the Mother Twig pointing her at this building, but why would it have done so if she’d been too late? She patted his cheek, pushing his eyes open wider with her thumbs. He didn’t react, nor did his eyes focus on her. She grabbed his head and tried to shake it, but his neck had the rigidity of a boulder.
Dad had gone to the Other Place.
She flung herself on him, wrapping her arms around and snuggling her face against his shoulder. Great, heaving sobs burst out of her. Every memory of Dad flashing in her head brought harder and harder tears. With each thought of him protecting her, smiling whenever she learned something he’d taught her, or quizzing her on plants, she lapsed deeper and deeper into grief.
Nothing mattered anymore. She had found him, even if he had gone to the Other Place.
Wisp couldn’t survive without Dad.
She didn’t want to.
So, she’d stay right here with him.
The Purpose of Bars
-25-
Wisp cried herself to silence, clinging to Dad. She knelt in his lap, arms still wrapped around him, face still buried against his shoulder. She had no desire to do anything but hold on to him until she, too, slipped into the Other Place.
The other people talked in whispers, mostly about possible ideas to escape, except for Kit, who upon witnessing her crying about Dad, had begun wailing for his mother. Juliana, the recently captured woman, shared her name with the others, and told of her abduction. The marauders had driven their buggy right onto the farm where she lived, chasing the fleeing people like a wolf barreling into a herd of deer. A man on the back grabbed her while she ran. They’d never even stopped driving, until they’d gone too far away for anyone to help her.
Minutes passed in relative calm before a random thought that Dad couldn’t be upset with her for leaving the cabin triggered another wave of heavy crying. Time and reality blurred. Wisp glided in and out of waking dreams, seeing her happiest moments. Dad smiling; Dad carrying her on his shoulders across the snow to the outhouse; hours spent sitting safe in her Haven reading; Dad standing a few feet away with his back turned while she bathed, making sure nothing would hurt her. These silly people had nice havens and didn’t even want to be in them. Well, maybe not quite as nice as hers. None of them had soft bedding, merely cold bars and colder stone, and the hanging ones looked uncomfortably small. Being forced to sleep sitting up sounded awful.
Eventually, a sense of numbness came over her. She sat back and neatened Dad’s hair. Without the emotional crash of finding him dead engulfing her mind, all his wounds became glaringly obvious. He’d been stabbed with knives, hit with clubs, and shot with arrows, but no single injury looked fatal. Likely, he’d lost too much blood. Or maybe something inside broke.
Or perhaps Mother had told him that Wisp had learned enough from him to survive, and, being unable to get away from the marauders, he had gone to be with her.
“I’m not ready. I don’t wanna be alone,” she whispered, tugging on his stone-stiff arm. “Please don’t go away.”
The constant murmuring of voices outside the cell needled at her brain. She scowled at them for disturbing Dad’s shrine. Eyes closed, she mentally commanded everyone to be quiet, to respect Dad’s journey to the Other Side. When they didn’t shut up, she sprang to her feet, intent on screaming at them, but lost the energy to do so after walking up to the cell bars.
“Hey,” said Kit. “Please let us out. I don’t wanna be in a cage anymore. I want my mom!”
She looked at him. “It’s dark out. The Tree Walkers will get you if you’re not safe. You’re too little to be out of a haven at night.”
“No…” Kit shook his head. “These ’re cages, not havens. They’s not to protect us. They’s so we can’t escape. I hate being in here!”
Wisp grabbed the bars and leaned her head out between them. Being in such a huge haven that let her stand up dragged a hint of a memory from somewhere long ago to the surface. She hadn’t wanted to be in the Haven, but she’d been so small… It made no sense that she’d dislike being in her safe place, so she figured it a scrap of nightmare. “You’re little. You need to be inside a haven so the Tree Walkers don’t get you.”
“Marauders killed my dad, too.” Kit sniffled into tears. “He tried ta stop ’em from takin’ me an’ Mom, but they killed him.” The boy lost the ability to speak as grief brought him to sobbing.
Noma strained to reach him, but could only get her fingertips on the empty haven between them.
Once he noticed his mother trying, Kit also stuck his arms out past the bars. He kicked his feet back and forth, swinging his cage, but couldn’t get to his mother.
A lump formed in Wisp’s throat. That boy had a barrier of steel and open space between him and being able to touch his mother. She had a barrier of spirits and magic. Mother had been gone for so long, she couldn’t remember ever seeing her alive.
“Please, child,” said Noma, tears in her eyes. “Please help us get out of these cages.”
“You can do it,” said Juliana. “There’s a man right outside with the keys. You got inside here without anyone seeing you. You can get the keys and let us out.”
“She’s only a little girl.” Olim shook his head. “Kid, get out of here. Those men will do unspeakable things to you.”
“Shut up,” whisper-shouted Daz over his shoulder at the other caged man. He grinned at Wisp. “You can do it, kiddo. Find the key. Be quiet, take the key and bring it back to us.”
“But the Walkers,” muttered Wisp. “We need to be in havens at night.” She pulled her head back inside the cell, wondering if it would even protect her
. The spacing of the bars would let her slip right through, but only because she hadn’t grown up yet.
“Where did you get that tree walking nonsense from?” asked Tavin. “Who told you that?”
“Dad,” muttered Wisp. “Where we live, there are monsters who take children. I have to hide in my Haven when it gets dark, or when Dad’s not there to protect me.”
“This…” Daz patted the bars of his cage. “Is what you call a haven?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Uhh, I hate to break it to you, kid, but your Dad lied to you. I, uhh, not sure I wanna know why he put you in a cage, but that ain’t normal.” Daz shook his head. “And I ain’t never heard of a Tree Walker.”
“They’re real!” shouted Wisp. “I’ve seen them! They almost got me, but I’m good at hiding and they didn’t find me! Take back what you said about Dad! He’s not a liar! He didn’t put me in a cage. It’s a Haven!” She wiped tears from her cheeks, her body shaking from erratic cry-breathing.
The other people all stared at her, except for Kit and Noma, still trying to stretch far enough to touch hands, despite it being impossible.
Wisp turned away from the bars and walked over to kneel by Dad. “Are you in the Other Place?”
Dad didn’t reply.
She bowed her head. Tears splattered on her thighs, running down over her knees. “I will bring you home to be with Mother.”
The not-quite-as-old-as-Dad man stifled a chuckle. “No offense, girl, but you don’t look anywhere near strong enough to carry that guy. Let me out of here, and I’ll carry him wherever the heck you want.”
Wisp pushed herself up to stand and grabbed Dad’s arm. She struggled to lift him off the floor, but her feet slid on the stone. The harder she pulled, the more she slid, but Dad didn’t go far at all.
“You gotta get us outta here,” whisper-shouted Kit. “If the ’rauders see you, they’ll lock you up too! Please help before you’re caught!”
“The heck is all that noise?” shouted a man from behind the room’s only door.
Wisp gasped.
She scrambled to the bars and dragged the backpack inside before grabbing the rifle and scurrying deep into the cell, her back against the wall next to Dad. Footsteps echoed from behind the outside door, drawing nearer.
The Forest Beyond the Earth Page 23